Aloha' Doesn't Mean 'Goodbye'
by The Black Sluggard
Summary: There was always the threat that Five-0 would be torn apart if the threat of war recalled one of their number to active service. Unfortunately, Steve's military obligations were the least of there concerns.  AU for S6 of Supernatural .
1. Entertaining Haoles

The day had held so much promise.

It hadn't been _perfect_. Danny Williams didn't believe in perfect. Not any more. Steve's antics on their last case had required more than the usual load of unfortunate paperwork—the _usual_ amount itself being an impressive pain in the ass to begin with. The effort involved in keeping the frustrated swearing _under _his breath had cost Danny enough awareness that he'd lost track of time. He'd wound up getting out of HQ far later than he would have liked. Still, he had just been able to pick Grace up on time for their weekend together.

Having Steve along for the start of that weekend wasn't particularly _ideal_, certainly. But given the choice between dropping him off first or making his daughter wait...well, it really wasn't a choice at all. So Grace was stuck dealing with his boss as they drove him home—well, technically, Steve was driving _himself_ home. Which, between the grin on her face and the smirk lifting at the corner of Steve's mouth as he shared a _very _edited version of his latest attempt to give his partner a coronary, Danny was starting to wish was more of a drag to her. If those two ever joined forces he was so screwed.

And of course, because his mind was elsewhere he missed the only warning he might have had that his entire world was about to come to an end. As they rounded one of the ludicrous ruts in the earth that they classified as roads on this forsaken island—and why Steve was taking this route anyway was a total mystery—Danny was jolted out of his thoughts as Steve slammed onto the breaks. In fact, half-turned in his seat to watch his daughter, the sudden stop nearly jolted him out of his seat as well.

"For the love of—" He bit the words off as his tone started to heat up, wanting so much—so very _very_ much—to lay into McGarrett, but having to moderate it slightly in view of Grace. "Maybe I'm slowly becoming inured to your habit of driving like a complete maniac, Steven, but could you _please _try to feign some degree of sanity when my daughter—"

His eyes slid past Steve toward the site that held the other man's attention, his words halting immediately as he saw the, yes, _admittedly _fairly good reason why his partner had made him kiss the dashboard.

Because a man _standing in the middle of the road _was something you stopped for.

Danny's mouth dipped in a puzzled frown as he filed away the details. Caucasian, short dark hair, his skin the kind of pale he hadn't thought could exist in the islands. And completely batshit insane. _Clearly_. For while Danny's refusal to shed his tie as a concession to the local climate was easily visible evidence of his stubbornness, then wearing a damned _trenchcoat_ on a muggy, tropical afternoon was plainly indicative of mental illness. That, and despite the fact that the Camaro's bumper had halted less than a foot away from his body, the man seemed completely unruffled, staring at them through the windshield with a piercing blue gaze that made something in the back of Danny's head itch like crazy.

More specifically, the man was staring at _him. _

Danny found himself staring back, not knowing exactly what locked his attention on those glacial eyes, but his mind was searching frantically, trying desperately to identify what he was seeing there and not coming up with anything. Or at least nothing human. But familiar. _Painfully _familiar... Elements aligned, the stirring in the back of his skull settled fitfully into place, and like one of those trick pictures that could be two things at the same time, Danny knew. He _knew_...

And suddenly everything was different.

"Castiel."

Danny's lungs were tight, and his mouth was so dry that the sound of the name could barely be classified as a whisper. Beside him he heard the faint rustle of Steve shifting in his seat to look at him. His heart was hammering and he'd felt the blood drain from his face just fine, thank you, so he could imagine quite easily what stark-white shade of shit he probably looked. He very deliberately did _not _look at his partner, not wanting to see whatever brand of confusion, concern, or constipation was currently written on his face.

Part of him wanted to run away, surrender to the strong flight instinct gibbering in his simian brain. He knew it was useless. There was nowhere he could run to where this would not already be waiting for him. He released a slow breath.

"Steve, stay in the car..."

He opened the door slowly, hesitating at the grinding of gravel beneath his foot. The short distance to the front of the car stretched out into the longest walk of his life.

"Danael." The voice was rough, damaged, and flat, a sound that put him in mind of a rusted mechanism more than a person. "It has been too long."

"I'd have to argue that it's a matter of opinion, Cas."

He found his own voice a lot quicker than he would have thought possible. Knowing what he faced, though, Danny couldn't decide if that was a good thing or not. Castiel simply cocked his head, seeming not to get the subtle diss. Of _course _he didn't. Behind him, Danny heard the card door slam.

Because, really, who was he fooling to think that McGarrett would listen to him _ever_?

Clamping down on his fear—and his imagination, feeding him all the myriad and horrible ways this confrontation could go badly wrong in 3D technicolor—Danny decided to do what he always did best.

Fill the silence.

"Was there something you wanted, Castiel? 'Cause call it a hunch, but this doesn't exactly carry the vibe of a friendly family visit."

"You need to come Home, Danael."

"Bullshit. After all this time?Why me? Why _now_?"

Castliel's head tilted slightly, his gaze unwavering. It could hardly be called an expression, but what Danny read there was irritation.

"Remember that I can see into your mind." He said, his voice like a saw against Danny's nerves. "Do not pretend more ignorance of recent events than you possess. The Apocalypse has been...indefinitely postponed. While it is theoretically possible for it to have escaped your notice in your current state, I do find it unlikely."

And maybe Castiel had a point, not that Danny was about to admit it. Even reduced to a near-atomic scale of insignificance, the voices of his Brothers muffled behind mental walls as thick as he could build, he'd still been subconsciously aware of the pressure mounting on the mainland. He'd fought tooth and nail for every hour of extra time he could get with his daughter, incapable of knowing when it might be their last. Things had been reaching a critical mass for the past few months, and he knew that kind of energy didn't just blow over...

Or at least, he'd known that until it basically _had_.

"Balthazar and I have been searching the full span of human history for you and the other _Irin_," Castiel continued. "The unfortunate fact is that _you_ were simply among the easiest to find. Your grace was not as well concealed as you might have liked."

And behind him, Danny could hear the gravel shift beneath Steve's feet as his posture tensed in response to the threat he knew the other man had misinterpreted. Bless him, as powerless as he was Danny practically _could_ read his partner's mind right now. And the concern the man felt for his daughter warmed his heart, it really did. He just hoped that Steve wasn't about to do something stupid, because right now the last thing Danny needed was to try and explain to psycho-SEAL that even the _grenade_ he was probably carrying in his pocket wouldn't be enough of a threat for the thing in front of them that pissing it off was even a _concern_.

And right now, he was less terrified of Grace being taken than he was of grace being _returned_...

"Castiel, _please_," Danny begged, "Don't do this to me. Do _not_ do this to me."

"My appearing to you is a courtesy. I'm afraid I can't afford to give you the choice. If you will look at this rationally, you will see that _you _cannot afford that choice either."

Danny followed the infinitesimal shift of that cold blue stare over his shoulder, past Steve who was looking at him in agitated confusion. His eyes fell on Grace where she waited in the car.

"I _am_ sorry." Castiel said.

Angels didn't extend courtesies, and they didn't apologize. Yet the tightness around Castiel's eyes, the set of his mouth held a degree of expression that was almost shocking for a soldier of Castiel's rank. The sympathy it suggested almost baffling. Centuries and the wall of his human condition stood between Danny and the last time he and his Brother had spoken, but still it was difficult to imagine what might have changed the other so much. At that moment, Danny couldn't bring himself to care.

_So this is it_, he thought. The end of everything he'd built. Everything he loved.

"When?" Danny asked softly, dragging his eyes away from Castiel's face. He was ashamed of his resignation, but he knew there was no way to fight this.

"_Very _shortly," was the reply.

Danny knew it was a warning. He turned to Steve who was staring at him, his expression begging for an answer to what was going on. Unfortunately, they wouldn't have time.

"Steve." He managed hoarsely, "I want you to get back in the car and drive Gracie back to her mother's."

"_What_?" Steve asked uncomprehendingly. His eyes flicked to the car, knowing that the only way Danny would surrender time with his daughter was if things had somehow gone horribly wrong.

"I've got some...business I need to take care of, Steven, and I need you to take Gracie _home_. What part of that don't you understand?"

Steve shot Castiel a suspicious glance.

"What ever happened to not going into something without back-up?"

Why did he have to make this so difficult? He rounded on his partner, but as much as he wanted to glare and scream and yell, he didn't have the _time_.

"Steven, for _once_ in your life will you _please_ listen to me?" He begged his partner, softly. Danny hoped Steve knew him well enough to realize how rare that was. "It's important—no, it's _essential_—that you listen to me _right now_ and get Grace the hell out of here."

Thankfully, the desperate tone of his request burned through Steve's questions. He said nothing, but Danny knew from his hurried glance at the car that he would do it. Satisfied, Danny walked over to the Camaro and opened the door to lean in. Grace looked up at him, and he could see from the confusion on her face that she _knew_ something was wrong. It broke his heart that he couldn't tell her it would all be okay.

"I gotta go, monkey." He told her, trying to smile, trying not to worry her further. "Don't give your Uncle Steve any more trouble than he deserves, alright?"

When she nodded her head, he leaned down to kiss her cheek.

"Danno loves you."

As he stood, he caught Steve looking at him over the hood of the car. His partner's expression was frozen, but Danny could tell the goodbye had shaken him.

"Take care of my daughter, McGarrett. I swear to—" Danny bit off the end of the sentence abruptly, not willing to go _there _right now. Not feeling the love. "Just..."

"I will." Steve said evenly, "But you're explaining this _later_. Promise."

"I promise." Danny said, though he didn't know if he'd have any say in keeping it. "Now get the heck out of here."

As he watched them drive away, Danny couldn't help but think that it somehow didn't matter that the Apocalypse had been thwarted. It felt like his world was ending anyway.


	2. A Tree Grows in Jersey

When it happened, part of Danny wanted to cry, but the bit of him that even _could_ seeped away too quickly. Humans had all these nuances, all these hues and shades to every chemical reaction that fizzed and gurgled through their brain meat. Angels didn't have that. Angels _felt_, after a fashion, but their range of emotional capability was rather limited. Your average multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent came with two default settings: Obedience and Wrath. The higher ups—thrones, Archs, principalities and chiefs of ten—could be a little more complicated, but even then those two drives were always the strongest. Even on Earth, in human form, this fact had remained true, blending itself into Danno's personality: loyal partner, devoted father, and tremendous hothead.

But it was _Danael_ that materialized moments later in an urban park in New Jersey.

The pollution from the surrounding city stung the nose of a body he'd worn comfortably as his own for more than thirty years, now stretched tight across his grace like a cheap suit. It should have stung something else, he knew. He recalled with clarity that would defy human comprehension every second of his life as Danny Williams, every moment of homesick, pining exile in what any other ape would have considered paradise. It was understanding of it that escaped his grasp. Whatever connection he once felt to this poisoned patch of dirt had been robbed from him, along with everything else.

Well, everything but an intense and burning desire to _smite _something. Wrath. Danael was _good_ at Wrath.

And of course the two yahoos that Castiel had roped into handling things on this end were still hanging around. Still staring into the burning the remains of the ancient-looking tree which had once held his grace captive, they failed to note his presence. Too bad for them.

With a thought he was behind them.

"Do you slack-jawed primates have _any_ idea what you've done?"

Both young men turned, eyes widening slightly in surprise. And perhaps at that point he might have still forgiven what they'd done to him. But then the shorter of the two, who still stood a half-foot of physical height over the vessel his human body had become, looked down at him with a smirk.

"You bring the marshmallows?" The man asked. And that was _it_.

Danael reached up to grab both their collars, and soon he had the satisfaction of watching a combined twelve-foot-and-change of Winchester go soaring through the air to land in an awkward and uncomfortable looking heap on the wet grass.

"Damn it," Dean swore, shooting a glance at his brother. He was the one who had spoken earlier. "Cas said this guy would be on _our _side!"

The other, Sam, looked up at Danael where the angel now loomed with all his five and a half feet of physical presence over their prone bodies.

"Oh, I'm on your side," Danael said crossly. "Trust me, if I _wasn't_ on your side, you'd know it. They'd be finding your molecules on the dark side of the _moon_ you'd know it so badly."

What might have been hyperbole from Danny, Danael meant literally.

"But I had a daughter. A job. A _life_, and you apes just ripped that all away from me. And I can't even _feel_ any of what made those things matter, but I remember that they _did_. And _that_ has me more than a little pissed off. So yeah, I'm on your _side_. I'm just not real _happy_ about it."

"So." He said finally, "You dumb animals feel like explaining to me just what was so _important_ you had to gut my life?"


	3. Aloha

Steve didn't realize he'd fallen asleep until he was woken up by the sensation of someone standing over him.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Danny asked him, looking down and shaking his head. "Even _I_ didn't want to be here."

"Danny, what—" Steve was awake and alert in seconds, sitting up stiffly from his cramped position on Danny's folded up fold-out couch. "Thank God, I thought— What the hell happened out there?"

Danny smiled.

"No, babe, see, you're doing that all backwards." Danny said, stepping away from the couch to look at a photograph of Grace which sat in a frame on the side table. "First you ask the question, then you wait for the answer. _Then_, if you still feel like it, you thank God. Only, in this situation, something's telling me step three's a no-go."

As Steve watched his partner trace a thumb lightly over the image of his daughter he found it strangely disquieting. It shouldn't have struck him as unusual, but the gesture seeming oddly detached. A car passed on the street outside sending a scattered beam of light through a gap in the curtains. It cast bizarre shadows across the wall behind Danny, shadows that stretched unnaturally, looking almost like wings...

"What—" Steve began, confused, but whatever he might have said was cut off as his partner spoke.

"Come on," Danny said. "Let's get out of this depressing hole."

Between one eyeblink and the next, Danny's apartment disappeared. Suddenly, Steve found himself staring at green hills, cool under the dark night sky. He was on a rise, somewhere near the petroglyphs he and his father used to visit when he was a child. There was a beer in his hand, he noticed, and he realized he was sitting...in what looked like one of his own lanai chairs. Danny sat in a chair beside him, taking a sip of his own beer. Disoriented, it was a moment before Steve could speak.

"_What_?" He said again, confused.

"I know you've got kind of a limited vocabulary, Steven, but this is bad even for you."

Steve stared at him.

"_How_? Am I...am I dreaming?"

Danny didn't answer, he just took another sip of his beer.

"Danny, what the hell is going on?"

"You're a reservist," Danny said after a considering silence, "So I'll put this into language you'll understand. I'm being redeployed."

Steve searched his partner's face, but while Danny normally showed so much of everything he was feeling in his face, in his posture, in his voice, right now he gave away nothing.

"I don't understand."

"You believe in guardian angels, Steve?" Danny asked. His voice seemed serious, so Steve answered the question seriously.

"What, you mean ones that watch over us, keep us safe?" Steve considered. "No."

"Good," Danny said with a nod, pitching his empty into the darkness, "'Cause it's bullshit. But like a lot of bullshit, there's some truth in it."

"Millennia ago, humanity was young and stupid and vulnerable, but God had a Plan for you. He put angels on Earth to keep an eye on mankind. Only, He picked angels for that duty who _cared_ about humans, and some of them cared too much. They gave humans knowledge they weren't ready to have. Some of them even had human wives, and fraternization was a _big_ no-no. And, for their Antediluvian screw-ups, they were punished. Their connection to Heaven was stripped, and they were sent to Earth to be born in human form, scattered throughout all the different eras of human existence, to be stupid and vulnerable along with you."

Steve found himself staring at Danny as he spoke. There was a hint of a smile on his partner's face, but it didn't meet his eyes. There was nothing in those eyes.

"Now, the Plan had a lot to do with this dust-up that was supposed to happen between Lucifer and the Archangel Michael. Winner-take all. Only the collateral damage..." Danny's head tilted back, the smile on his face twisting wryly. "Well, let's just say it would have made the irradiation of Chernobyl look like an unfortunate misfire."

"And the crazy thing," Danny said, "The really funny thing, Steve, is that it was supposed to happen last year. Only someone stopped it. And now that the Plan is shot, well, Heaven doesn't have a clue what to do with itself, and _some_ of the angels—the ruling regime of angels—still want the closure."

Danny paused, looking over to Steve as though making sure he was still following.

"The...man we met on the road is called Castiel. He is one of the few angels who wants to see this whole mad machine keep on ticking. His faction is...not popular. He doesn't have the numbers or the power that Raphael does, and that's bad, Steve. That's very bad. For you and every hairless ape on this planet."

"He needed...back up." Steve managed, finding his voice after too much silence. Danny's smile pulled into a smirk.

"Welcome to the conversation. Yeah. I guess you could say that."

"So..." Steve felt like he was drifting, cut loose, like he had no ground to stand on. "Danno, what does that mean? Where are you going? Are you coming back?"

"Where's kind of tricky." Danny said. "I'll be fighting a war across dimensions Hawking couldn't even dream of. As for the other..."

Danny frowned, an emotion dancing in his eyes that while alien, at least seemed _real_.

"I'm coming back," He answered with a certainty so concrete it could have shattered glass. "Danny Williams is supposed to die of old age surrounded by Grace and all her kids—or getting his ass blown up putting up with _your_ nonsense. That's _my_ plan, and I for one intend to do everything inhumanly possible to see it through. I won't lie, it's not going to be easy. I don't even know how I'll manage it, but that's the plan."

He looked at Steve, then, with a gentle smile—or a close approximation of what one would look like if it really _was_ Danny sitting there.

"Don't think of this as 'goodbye'. Think of it as 'aloha'."

Steve wanted to argue, to ask more questions, to beg more time. He wanted it more than anything, but it was at that moment he woke up.

Sunlight was streaming through a gap in the closed curtains. Lying uncomfortably on the couch in Danny's apartment, Steve was disoriented before he remembered why he was there. Checking his phone, he found a text from Chin. There was still no sign from Danny, no word, no trace of him. As he remembered his dream, a tightness twisted in his chest. He wanted so badly to know that his partner was alright...he guessed his mind had just manufactured an explanation for his disappearance.

It was only as he sat, trying to decide his next step in searching for Danny that he looked over and saw that one of photographs that had been sitting on the side table had been taken out of it's frame. The one of Grace. It was missing.

_End?_

**Author's Note: **Believe it or not, "Danael"is not only the name of an angel, but in the book of Enoch the name of one of the _Irin_—"Watchers"—who were "bound to the valleys of the earth" for getting too close to humanity. Given the characterization of angels on _Supernatural_, and their usual condescending perception of humans, I thought that Danny's nicknames for his daughter and his partner—"monkey" and "Neanderthal"—not to mention Grace's name itself were just too much of a coincidence not to combine it into a fic.

This is part of a larger AU series which will span several other fandoms...once I get around to writing those.


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